


this world goes 'round

by creatology



Category: Xi You Ji | Journey to the West - Wu Cheng'en
Genre: IF YOU SEE THIS I DEMAND YOU WRITE SOME WUJING/BAJIE CONTENT PLSSS WE ARE STARVING, M/M, THERES LIKE? ONLY 1 FIC FOR THESE GUYS, btw did you miss me :D i simply forgot to write for a couple months but i'm alive hii, but this is a wujing-centric fic, i might make this a series :) i love them so much, sanzang/wukong if you squinttt, well mostly bajie/wujing centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creatology/pseuds/creatology
Summary: Maybe-series maybe-chapter fic about Wujing (and Bajie's) perspective throughout the journey.
Relationships: Shā Wùjìng | Sandy/Zhū Bājiè | Eight-Precepts Pig
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	this world goes 'round

A tiring day meant for a tiring pilgrim. 

Wujing, for lack of a better phrase, was exhausted to hell and back. When he first woke up (always bright an early, cursed fish demon,) he noticed that the rope tethered around Longma was loose, so he spent a good portion of the first hour trying to secure him and make sure nothing fell apart by noon. 

By late morning, poor Wujing had burned the breakfast he had made in a charred pot (he had given his favorite one to a village a couple of foe-fightings back) and had taken a faux lecture from Bajie for “using dirty wares.” Take the title “former cannibal” as you will, he held his tongue on any backtalk.

Noon on the dot, they were walking west again. Wukong led the five of them in his usual laid-back manner, Sanzang not too far behind him atop of Longma, and a certain pig and fish contorted trucking along behind them. Their conversation was nothing short of interesting.

“Did you hear?”  
  
“Hear what?”

“Eldest is in cahoots with our master.”  
  
“Why do you care?” Wujing snorted. They were talking much quietly, and his random burst of energy made the journey pause. But only for a second.

Bajie turned and faced him, his whisper now lower than before, and his cheeks dusting a darker shade of maroon. He grabbed Wujing’s inner elbow. “It’s not about why. Think about when, and more importantly. How?”

Wujing cocked an eyebrow. He allowed Bajie to hold his arm while they walked.

“You know..” Bajie leaned in closer, snickering. “Sex? How would that work?” 

Wujing rolled his eyes and gave him a shove. “You’re disgusting.” 

They still walked and bickered (mostly Bajie trying to get his friend riled up.) Not once did they leave each other’s side.

By late afternoon, they had reached another village. After humbling begging for food with Wukong, Sanzang and his cohorts had been invited into a temple to spend the night. The plan was to have a warm meal and prepare for the following day. 

Of course, that’s not how it went. Bajie had graciously taken it upon himself to eat Wukong’s share of food (he reasoned that he wasn’t going to eat it anyway,) and had suffered a beating after being chased through every nook and cranny within the temple walls. Wujing, the inner devil that he is, did not step in; instead, he watched as Bajie rubbed his bruised head and made his way back to the table. This, of course, did not spare him on the lecture of rationing via their eldest brother, and the lecture of “standing up” from second eldest.

That night, the poor fish pilgrim hadn’t slept a wink. As a monk, it should be within his wiring to not complain about the bedding (he decided that Bajie was rubbing off on him) and make do with what he had. However, his bed was what he observed had to be the thinnest mattress in the world, and he had to share it with his gluttonous brother for the night. The kindness he did have, for he let Bajie sleep that night while he sat and studied scripture. 

Before he blew the candle out, he glanced at Bajie’s sleeping face. He was smiling.


End file.
